


Tentacle Touch

by kayliemalinza



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006)
Genre: F/F, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-25
Updated: 2006-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Witchcraft gone awry... don't you just <i>love</i> it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tentacle Touch

"Get them off! Change me back!" shrieked Anamaria, flailing her tentacles at Tia.

"Dere now," said Tia Dalma sternly. "First you be asking me for da reach and grip of Davy Jones, den you want me to take it back?"

"This wasn't what I _meant_ , you witch!" Ana snarled. The tentacles curled and twisted, tugging at the join of beast and human belly. The skin there was soft and shiny, all at once stretched and plush like a scar. Ana's shirt was a loss, ripped to tatters. Her breasts bobbled on the writhing tentacles.

Tia crossed her arms across her chest—something Ana wasn't capable of at the moment—and shook her head. "You ask for my services and I give dem to you. I do not take them back."

"You _will_ , woman!" said Anamaria and, without knowing how, she attacked. The tentacles lashed around Tia Dalma and pulled her flush to Ana's mutant belly. Tia gasped, her waist and ribs squeezed tight by the marine muscle, her arms pinned. Ana matched her glare for glare, sucking Tia's betelnut breath from the wavery space between their mouths.

"You know not what you do," said Tia loweringly. Then she chuckled. "Stop dat, it tickles!"

"I can't," said Ana. She had no control or impulse over these anomalies; she could only watch in horror as a tentacle crept across Tia's chest and neck, puckering her skin with gentle squishy suckers. The tip curled around a shiny shoulder, then spiralled back upon itself to snug the sloping collarbone. Ana bit her lip, suddenly aware that her new appendages could transmit touch; she could _feel_ the heat and slick of Tia's skin, the nettled press of whalebone stays and raspy lace to Ana's spongy flesh. "You have to change me back," she pleaded. "It's the only way."

"Be it now," said Tia. She tipped her head back and laughed as a tentacle squirmed into her bodice.


End file.
